Happy Place
by Suffering Angel
Summary: Sometimes, you can find comfort in the oddest of places. Set before CoM


I don't own Kingdom Hearts.

_**Happy Place**_

She wasn't around for very long; even someone as _new_ to the world as her knew that much.  
>There were so many things she didn't understand, so many words she heard without realizing their meaning. Her world was as small and blank as the room she was kept in, and her own pale self at times seemed to blend in with the rest of the scenery.<br>There were others there with her, sometimes, but they never stopped to long enough to bother with her.  
>These odd figures feeling every big as hollow as herself, clad in a color that stood out painfully in her pure, colorless world. They talked amongst themselves, and about her - but rarely to her. She was different from them, set apart in color, position and then, she realized - in name. It took her close to a week to realize she even had one, a day longer to realize what it was, and two days later she finally understood what a name even <em>was<em>. She realized her own was different from those of everyone around her, just like she was different from them.  
>She knew, and sat quietly in her chair, in her corner, out of everyone's way and away from them. Even someone young, or rather new as her understood that much -<br>They didn't like nor care about her. She was alone - even if she didn't know the word, she knew the feeling well enough, and knew it wasn't going to change - not thanks to the people in black, anyway.  
>So then the girl, so unknowing and lonely, ventured on her own one day when her caretakers were away, and for a short while everything changed - all thanks to one peculiar room she found.<p>

It was when the person called "Marluxia" left her on her own one day, and locked the door behind him. She was left to her own devices, to the papers and crayons and glass of clear water, but for the first time in her short life she found she didn't feel like drawing. No image came to mind, no far-away fantasy that felt important to recreate. She didn't feel like sitting there, calling out to someone to come and get her, find her - to save her.  
>Just once she wanted to go and do something on her own.<br>So she did, and without access to the outside, checked every last corner of her room.  
>She examined the statues and the sculptured flowers; she reached for the decorations hanging off the walls, and tried to reach the ceiling by jumping off the long table, only to once again experience what the yellow-haired black-clad person called 'pain'.<br>The girl for a change wasn't disheartened though, and decided to be a bit more thorough. It wasn't like she had anything better to do, anyway... So she rounded the room again, hands pressed against the wall. She took careful, measured steps, feeling over the white marble from corner to corner - to corner. She learned where the wall was smoother, rougher, and at one point broken.  
>And then, just as she was about to finish her round, she found it - the part of the wall that wasn't really there.<p>

She stared in amazement as her hands vanished into the wall, her wrists ending where the white surface began. Not understanding quite enough to panic, she pulled her hands out only to find them whole, albeit a bit tingly.  
>Something stirred inside her then, something she experienced for the first time in her life. Looking once over her shoulder, she waited for the door to open but that failed to happen - there wasn't even the sound of the lock opening, or even the heavy footsteps she would hear whenever someone approached her room. She was alone and would be that way for a while.<br>Oh, if only she knew what she was experiencing was 'excitement', but even without a name, the odd feeling made the girl look back at the wall, take a deep breath - and jump forward.

A moment passed, and then another, and she slowly let herself open her eyes. She was greeted by the familiar glare of white walls and ceiling, but the gasp that escaped her meant it was nothing like what she knew. Not with the chains running across the walls, not with the odd throne set in the middle of the room - not with the odd figure seated limply on it.  
>Realizing immediately her mistake, she covered her lips with her hands and was ready to turn back. She'd apologize, beg for forgiveness, explain she never meant anything by any of this -<br>But the figure remained still. He kept staring at a point in the floor, and seemed to be sitting in an overall uncomfortable position. Still, and quiet - enough to make the girl feel a bit less frightened, or to be precise - too curious. She took a step forward.  
>He was smaller than the others she knew, she realized, closer in size to the blue-haired one who kept frowning. His clothes were different, certainly, if only for they had more than one color - even she herself was pure white, and thus found the variety to be fascinating.<p>

He kept still; she took another step closer.  
>Their hair was the same color, she pondered and held a lock of blonde that rested over her forehead. Same color, different hue though, was the conclusion as she tilted her head and leaned forward.<p>

He let out a sigh; she pulled back, but as soon as he fell silent again she walked up to him, excited at the sign of life. So fascinated she was by this person, she even reached a hand to his shoulder, like they did with her when they caught her snoozing. She was noticeably gentler, however, and wondered if that was why this person didn't respond. Maybe he was sleeping deeply, she wondered and leaned forward, gazing into his blank blue eyes. Blank, and distant, and sad. Longing - like herself.  
>She caught herself staring, trying to understand why he was like this. What happened, what he lost, but gave up soon enough. What could she, who had neither a heart nor much of a life, could understand? What could she offer him, even?<p>

Depressed, she sat down on the floor next to his throne, and looked up at him with wide, sad eyes. She wanted to talk to him but doubted he would reply; she wanted to help him but knew not how.  
>There was only one thing left to her to do then, and she let herself smile as she did what she wished someone would do to her.<br>She reached for his hand and interlaced their fingers, and told him it would all be alright. She rubbed his hand against her cheek, and promised that one day, she'll help him. Promised that at the very least - she knew him.  
>And then, despite herself, despite knowing he won't answer - she asked if they could be friends.<p>

What could she do by cry openly when this figure, so still and lifeless, squeezed her hand back?

She threw herself at him, weeping openly and loudly. She buried her face in his shoulder and a hand in his hair, so much like her own but different. He was still but warm, and she wondered if she could ever properly thank him - she was still young, new. Even a moment like this was more than she could ever have hoped for.

But alas, even that wasn't to last. No sooner did she manage to calm down a bit did she hear the sound of the boots crashing down over marble, and knew her time had ran out. She knew she had to leave, and never come back least this boy was found and captured.  
>At least that much - surely she could do at least that, right?<p>

"...don't worry. I'll protect you... Ven."

Sucking one deep breath in, she left his hand resting over his lap, and ran back out through the wall that wasn't really there. She was determined to not break her promise to herself, to not let anyone else know he was there.  
>But she had tasted warmth and acceptance, and there was no turning back. What else could she do, then, but accept - when Marluxia promised her a replacement? Someone not as fragile or helpless, someone who could help her instead...<br>And maybe, just maybe, help her help Ven.

Sora forgave her for worse; surely he wouldn't mind this as well. 


End file.
